


Not the Way of Things

by Sildominarin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bobby gets the short end of the stick, Episode: s03e16 No Rest for the Wicked, Gen, The Author Regrets Everything, introspective, loss of a child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-20 02:51:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sildominarin/pseuds/Sildominarin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When his wife died, Bobby thought he'd lost all the family there was to lose. Little did he know what new heartbreak he- and John Winchester- was setting him up for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not the Way of Things

The room was too still, too quiet, and Bobby Singer wanted to _scream_.

Death had left it's pall on the room. It hung like a veil, supressing happiness and hope until all who entered would be almost compelled to speak in a whisper and maintain-even just a facade- of solemnity. And with two bodies lying on the blood stained floor, and a third almost as pale as the others, that wasn't going to be a problem at all. No, the problem would come from staying _in_ the room long enough to do what had to be done.

But God as his witness, it wasn't supposed to be like this. A father should never bury his children.

When he'd buried Karen all those years ago, after their fight and her possession, Bobby thought that the issue of children had been irrevocably settled. He'd taken on the life of a Hunter, killing and moving and never settling or looking back. When the urge came to glance at the past, there was always a bottle of something to lay it to rest. And if John Winchester hadn't barrelled into his life, he might have kept going like that. Hell, even if John had, it might not have changed anything. But he'd had two little sandy haired children with him. Little boys, kids who should be running around playing games and going to school in one spot for more then a year at a time. The cynical part of his mind had to wonder if John knew that having his kids with him opened more doors then coming alone, but it was never really something he wanted to think too closely about.

And in the end, it didn't matter. Both those kids wormed into his heart when he wasn't looking, and Bobby found himself playing father long after the chances of reaching that place on his own were over. He watched those boys grow up, watched Sam shoot up taller then his brother, watched Dean find his passion for good cars and better hunts. He'd silently cheered when Sam had pulled himself away from that life for college, and watched in worried silence as John unconsciously molded the 'perfect' son out of Dean. Had been more proud then he'd thought possible when he realized how protective those boys were of each other. He'd celebrated their triumphs, mourned their mistakes, and had done his best to be there when they called. And now Bobby had to bury Dean, and try to summon up some level of comfort, of paternal support, for the devastated brother left behind.

It wasn't going to be easy. He could tell, even as he'd put strong arms around sam and felt the younger man cling to his jacket and sob. The next rest of his life was going to be full of pain and loss and a hell of a lot of drinking, for both of them he suspected. Because this? This wasn't right. This wasn't the way of things. This wasn't what nature intended. And as he stared at the mauled, bloodied, _empty_ body of Dean Winchester, only one thought came to mind.

A father should _never_ have to bury their child.


End file.
